Peter choked, coughing into his fist before he regained his composure. “Excuse me?”
“It’s what we’re drinking,” Maria clarified. “It’s vodka and orange juice, like in a Screwdriver, but with sloe gin and Southern Comfort. Slow Comfortable Screw. Get it?”
“Got it. I’d, uh, never heard of that one.” He’d also never had a woman say those particular words to him before. It only proved he was right. Marty was different.
She watched him as he turned to get the bartender’s attention. It took a few moments but finally the man came to his side of the bar.
“Two Slow Comfortable Screws and one Tequila Sunrise, please,” Peter ordered and tried not to feel ridiculous saying the crazy cocktail’s name.
When the drinks were delivered, he pushed a good portion of the hard-earned cash in his wallet across the bar. Then he turned to hand the drinks to the girls, before grabbing his own.
“Thanks,” Marty said, pinning him with her azure gaze as she drew in a long sensual swallow from the straw.
He recovered from watching her lips wrap around the straw and evaluated how things were going.
So far, so good, he determined. She was still there and talking to him. He’d just have to ignore the burgeoning hard-on in his trousers that the sight of her sucking on that straw had caused.
It wasn’t just her mind he was falling for. He was still a man, after all, and she had a killer body that no red-blooded male would be able to ignore.
“So, what do you ladies do?” he asked, trying to play it cool and like his heart wasn’t pounding so hard it was making his hands shake.
“We work for the Washington Post,” Maria answered his question instead of Marty. But that was all right.
Marty wasn’t doing much talking but her gaze had barely left him. That had to be a good sign.
“Right across the street.” He smiled. “That’s convenient.”
He joked about the location but in all honestly, he was impressed. The Post had won a Pulitzer for Woodward and Bernstein’s Watergate investigation. As he’d suspected, there was a serious brain behind the attractive façade. She wasn’t just a pretty face.
“And what do you do?” Finally, it was Marty who spoke. Although, he wished she wasn’t so stingy with her words. He could listen to her voice all night.
He stood a little taller as he answered, “I’m a legislative aide for Senator Scott.”
Marty’s eyes flew wide. Even Maria, the cheery one, lost her smile.
What had happened? Tim had said his job should impress women, not make them draw back like he was a viper.
“Do you know what Scott stands for? Do you hear the things he says?” Marty asked what were most likely rhetorical questions, but the thought of answering them had his heart thundering harder.
Things were becoming clearer. He should have predicted this reaction from her, given she worked for a liberal-leaning newspaper and he worked for a Republican senator.
Peter swallowed. “I, uh, just work for him. Doesn’t mean I agree—”
She took a step closer, which would have been a good thing normally. Not in this case. “I should hope you don’t agree. The man’s a racist and an anti-Semite. But if you truly do disagree with him, then the thing to do is quit working for him.”
He stood his ground, though now he had to look down to meet her gaze since he was over six feet tall and she was standing so close. Nearly touching him. He’d have enjoyed that, as well as the fire in her eyes, if she weren’t glaring at him.
Passion was good, but not when it was fueled by what appeared to be hatred.
What she obviously didn’t understand was that it was cutthroat getting a foot in the door in D.C. politics. There could be hundreds of applicants for a single staff opening. After graduating law school, he’d been grateful to get a paid position rather than have to volunteer and work for free like an intern.
Even if it was with a man who had a few black marks on his reputation, a legislative aide’s position with the Virginia senator was too valuable to throw away. It was a stepping-stone to becoming legislative director, and after that, one day, running for office himself. Though that day was still many years away.
“Um. It’s not really a black and white situation. There are many factors to be considered. Granted, I’m just an aide now. But I’ve always believed I could do more good working to make changes from inside the system rather than from the outside—”
“Talk, talk, talk. That’s what you politicians do. Talk.” She poked him in the chest with one manicured finger each time she said the word. “All your talk sounds really good until it sends two and a half million American boys to war and kills over a million Vietnamese.”
And now they’d moved on to the war, which she was, of course, against. So were many Americans, Peter included. “To be fair, I was still in high school when we entered the war—”
She ignored his defense. “Times are changing, Mr. Greenwood. Roe versus Wade gave women unprecedented rights over their own bodies. The world is changing, getting smaller thanks to the formation of the European Union, and this country’s new relationship with China and . . . and even the US and Soviet coordination in space. The good old boy network that is Washington politics will fall. Mark my words. The middle class, women, minorities, will all rise and take back power. Then there will be peace and equality for everyone all over the world. I hope all of you on the Hill enjoyed your war, Mr. Greenwood. Because it will be the last one.”
She planted her glass on the bar and spun, striding away from him.
Maria slurped up the remnants from her own glass before saying, “Thanks for the drinks.”
She scrambled after her friend while he stood, speechless as he watched the most fascinating woman he’d ever met strut away. The tantalizing view of her hips swaying within her short skirt with every stomp of her high heels made her disappearance through the door and from his life even more devastating.
Beer in hand, Tim moved to stand next to Peter. Side by side they stared at the door through which Marty had made her dramatic exit.
Tim turned to face Peter and cocked a brow high. “I’d ask how it went but . . .”
“Yeah.” It couldn’t have gone worse. And Peter wanted her more than ever.
“Sorry, man.” Tim slapped him on the back, making the mostly untouched drink in his hand slosh inside the glass.
“It’s all right.” Peter wasn’t giving up yet. He could resist anything except a challenge.
Martha—what was her last name? Dammit, he’d never gotten it. Anyway, Martha, aka Marty, was certainly going to be a challenge. But she was wrong about him and his beliefs. He just had to prove it to her.
Tonight had only made him more determined to do just that.
CHAPTER TWO
“So that Peter guy at the bar was cute.”
Marty lifted a brow at her coworker Maria’s ridiculous, although accurate, comment. “He works for Scott.”
It didn’t matter how good-looking Peter Greenwood was or was not. That he could work for such a hateful man like Senator William L. Scott was a complete turn off for her.
“Legislative aide to a senator is a really good job—” Maria cut her statement off in response to Marty’s glare. “Uh, but you’re right. It would be nice if he worked for someone else.”